Welcome to Arkham
by Torriaa-42
Summary: Victoria came from a seemingly great family... and ends up at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. While there, she manages to capture the attention of one Dr Jonathan Crane. Crane/OC


_AN: This is my very first fanfiction! Oh, how I love Batman Begins. Please review, no flames, please :) Enjoy! _

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As I was shoved roughly out of the police car, I was vaguely reminded of a line of my favorite song.

_Mama, we all go to hell._

And boy, was I going to Hell. In my case, Hell had a name.

Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

How in the world had I ended up here?

Looking back, you would have never guessed that sweet, innocent little Victoria Thompson would ever end up at Arkham. I'd come from a good home; from a seemingly loving family consisting of my mother, stepfather, stepbrother and I. My stepfather, Robert, worked as an architect, and had helped design a good portion of buildings in Gotham. His son, my stepbrother, Josh, was a straight-A student, loved by the entire student population of Gotham High. My mother, Beth, worked as a nurse. On the outside, we were the perfect family.

But you wouldn't think that after seeing the bruises that covered my mother from head to toe.

Behind closed doors, Robert frequently beat my mother and, at times, me. This increased after Josh moved away for university. Nearly every night, I would hear the sound of Robert's fist connecting with my mother's flesh from my bedroom. My mother would never leave him, no matter what he did to her. She said he "still loved her" and the beatings were because she "had done something wrong, she deserved it". Whenever I begged her to leave him, she became furious with me. Robert brought in a fairly hefty paycheck, and without hi, she'd have nothing.

"You'd still have me.." I would tell her, but she would simply roll her eyes and ask what paycheck I was bringing to the family. On these occasions I would walk away, and promptly break down into tears.

One fateful night, my mother and I were making dinner in the kitchen. As she chopped vegetables, Robert staggered through the front door, clearly drunk.

"Stupid bitch!" He roared at my mother.

"What have I done?" She gasped. Robert suddenly backhanded her, and she fell to the floor. He lumbered over, and began kicking her as she curled into a ball. I knew I had to do something, so I ran over and began pounding on his back with my fists, screaming, trying to get him to stop. He wheeled around and punched me hard in the stomach. I flew backwards and smashed my head off the table. My entire body throbbed in pain, and I could feel my consciousness slipping.

"You good-for-nothing bitch!" He yelled, as he began to punch my mother's face. She feebly tried to cover her face, but it was no use. He continued to beat her, until she no longer moved, and finally got up and walked upstairs.

"Mom?" I crawled over to her, and shook her gently. She stared ahead, all the life gone from her body. I broke down in agony, tears flowing down my face and onto my mother. I don't know how long I lay there, crying over my dead mother. When I finally had no more tears left, I felt something slowly begin to replace my despair.

Rage.

All of my anger, all of my agony, boiled inside of me. I could feel my hatred for this man burning in me, taking over. I got up slowly, and grabbed the largest knife I could find. I walked slowly up the stairs, dragging the knife over the wall on the way up. I shoved open the door to the master bedroom, and found Robert nearly passed out on the bed. I walked over, rage turning the world red. Upon hearing my breathing, he turned and looked up at me.

"What do you want, little bitch?" He spat.

I lifted the knife, watching his eyes grow in fear. I savored the look of terror on his face.

"You killed my mother." I said, grabbing his throat and placing the blade in his mouth. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, the last thing he would ever hear:

"Rot in fucking Hell."

I pulled the blade nearly to his ear, then did the same to the other side. His face split in half as he screamed in agony. I plunged the knife deep into his chest, over and over, blood spattering on the walls and on me. But I didn't care. I left the knife quivering in his mutilated chest.

I collapsed on the ground, finding myself unable to cry. I felt numb, void of all emotion. I sat there, surrounded by blood, until the police burst through the door and grabbed me. Apparently, my neighbor had heard all the screaming and had dialed 911. Upon seeing my handiwork on Robert's face, one of the cops had to leave the room. I was yanked out of the house and into a cop car.

And that's how I ended up here, being walked through the doors of Arkham Asylum. My new personal Hell. I stared blankly ahead. Shockingly, not a single tear rand down my face.

I had no more tears left to cry.

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_Please Review! :)_


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